Phantom Delights
by A. LaRosa
Summary: Danny/Sam, one-shot collection. Twenty-five drabbles which all relate to a LiveJournal community challenge. Each follow a specific theme and all have to do with food! A delicious read, no? Rated M to be safe. Review!
1. Cake Batter

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be **drabbles**, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for **25foods**, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree.

* * *

**001 **: Cake Batter

**Rating **: PG

**Theme **: 003. Cake Batter

_September 19, 2007_

* * *

Stirring the mix with as much force as he could, he attempted to get the little clumps of flour to soften and smooth in the batter. It was a task in itself to cook in general, but when this boy was determined, he was _determined_. With black frosting, gummy bats, and purple sprinkles at his disposal, he felt like a bullet-proof hero. He knew she would adore the effort he put in one of her favorite desserts, and he would definitely be back on her good side again (he hoped with every ounce of his being).

Dipping a finger into the vanilla mix, he scooped up a small amount of batter and stuck a finger in his mouth to lick off the sweet tasting substance. "Mmm," he murmured, resisting the urge to dip his finger in yet again for another taste. Continuing to stir, he made sure to check the temperature of the oven, give a once-over to all of the ingredients he had laid out on the counter, and smiled. Those cooking lessons his mother gave him were working out in his favor, now.

After pouring the batter into the pan and placing the cupcakes in the oven, he leaned forward and rested his weight against the counter top, reveling in the brilliance of his plan. If he knew anything about his girlfriend, it was that she had a secret sweet tooth, especially when it came to cupcakes with black frosting, gummy bats, and sprinkles of the violet kind. Oh yeah, he had it made now.

"A_hem_," a voice rang out in the silence of the kitchen, snapping Danny from his thoughts.

Turning around, he met those violet eyes he knew more than his own baby blues.

"Oh," he inhaled sharply, trying not to glance nervously around the kitchen; he wondered what he looked like, covered in flower and powder, standing in a kitchen full of baking supplies.

"Look, I came over here to–" her eyes darted around his form, then around the kitchen, taking in everything he was doing. "Are you _baking_?" She asked in awe, walking over to the counter where she spied the black frosting and other various assorted goodies. "You're making me something?" Glancing over to the oven, she saw that it was on and something was inside.

"Y-Yeah," he stammered, smiling weakly. "I wasn't expecting you to come over... I thought you were still mad at me, so I just was going to make cupcakes for you and leave them for you, hoping that I could be forgiven just a _little_ bit." He winced at the word 'forgiven,' but kept a straight face throughout the rest.

"I came over here to apologize for being so moody lately," she said softly, glancing over at him with a timid smile. "If I didn't snap at you, then you wouldn't have snapped back, and somehow I took offense to that right then and there, without thinking rationally. So," she paused, "truce?"

Smiling, he looked down at her and rubbed noses with her, smudging some flour onto it. "Truce."

Moving on tip-toe, she pressed her lips against his softly. After pulling backwards slightly, she licked her lips, commenting, "You taste like cake batter," and dove in to kiss his lips once again.

* * *

**End Note**: So, what do you think? You'll probably be seeing a lot of writing coming from me soon. I've been trying to get that done along with schoolwork, and it's not as easy as it sounds. Despite being over-run with work, I still get random little ideas popping up in my head... and the Paris-themed arc of stories is also in the developing stages, as well. I hope you enjoyed this and please, don't forget to review!

- _**A**_


	2. Cucumber

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be **drabbles**, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for **25 foods**, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree.

* * *

**002 **: Cucumber 

**Rating **: PG-13

**Theme **: 014. Cucumber

_September 25, 2007_

* * *

He watched her, watching the sway of her hips as she moved from station to station, accomplishing each small task she set herself out to complete. Those hips of hers were mesmerizing when they went to work. They looked their best in different situation entirely, but he felt like keeping himself tame sitting there at the kitchen table in her house. Once again, no one was to be found in the house besides the two of them; what a difference that made. 

"Is there anything else besides salad?" he asked, deciding to complain a bit to lessen the silence in the room. He knew that this week was really significant in her life, since it made up a large part of what she was... but he didn't know why he had to be involved.

She stood at the counter, cutting the ingredients of the salad she was making for the both of them. "There could be," she replied, cutting up some carrots and tossing them in with the iceberg lettuce. She decided, for his sake, that she would keep the salad tame and normal, unlike how she usually made it, with much more natural ingredients.

"Anything like..."

"No meat, though," she added, cutting him off at the pass. "Just for tonight."

"Damn," he breathed. "What if I made it, though?"

"You'd get food poisoning, for one. Remember last time you tried?" she asked, giving him a pointed look. "Come on, just bear with me here," she smiled sympathetically at him. "If you just suck it up and eat the salad, I'll..." she looked around, wanting to find something to appease him, something to win him over. She racked her brain for thoughts, but could only find one when her eyes laid on a certain vegetable she had yet to cut.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes darting to where he knew hers were resting.

Picking up the cucumber, she lifted and scrutinized it, an idea roaming about in her head. She realized that, in their years of a relationship, she had never actually...

"You know what? I know what I'll do. If you be a good little boy for me and eat like a vegetarian for my anniversary, of being a vegetarian, week, then," she trailed off, putting the cucumber in her mouth whole as much as she could, eyeing him the whole time. Pulling out a bit of the cucumber, she took a bite of it with a smirk. She then resumed the rest of her tasks of preparing the salad for the two of them, with a shocked boyfriend staring at her.

"I'll be the best little boy you could dream of," he beamed, mentally screaming, '_Bring on the salad!'_

* * *

**End Note**: Short and seductively sweet, no? 

- _**A**_


	3. Red Bull

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be **drabbles**, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for **25foods**, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree.

* * *

**003 **: Red Bull

**Rating **: PG

**Theme **: 021. Red Bull

_September 26, 2007_

* * *

He couldn't stay still; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stay still. He was nearly bouncing off the walls, in fact, and scarily enough for Sam, that meant almost literally bouncing off the walls. She feared for her life.

"You're already an energetic person, why did you–"

He bounced over to her with a grin, pulling her into his arms, "Come on, Sam, I'm not going to explode or anything."

"Why in the hell did you have an energy drink?" she asked, giving him a stern look, pulling back slightly.

"I have a lot of homework to do, so I figured that it would help me get focused," he reasoned, figuring it to be the simplest thing in the world. "Right?"

"You're probably going to be even more distracted. You know that, right?" she dead-panned, rolling her eyes with a smile at his attitude.

"Especially if you're here," he added with a cheeky grin.

Giving him another look, she moved out of his grasp and placed a hand on her hip. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Sam," his gaze lowered as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers lovingly, "whenever you're around my mind wanders to things more interesting than homework. You know what I mean, I see you do it, too, sometimes. Do you think I'd choose Pre-Calculus over those eyes?"

"You need to drink Red Bull more often," she said, kissing him softly on the lips.

"Why?"

"You get more romantic," she grinned, then snatched the can off of the table and took a swig.

"Wait, you want some, too?" thinking of a strategy, he paused, getting a wicked glint in his eye. "I've never seen you hyper before, Sam."

"Yeah, so? What about it?" she asked, nonchalant. "It's not an impossibility."

"I want to see what happens," he stated simply, suddenly circling her like a vulture circling its prey.

"Are you kidding me?"

He shrugged, "It's better than doing math."

"I'll give you that, but–"

"But?"

"_But_, you need to get that done," she told him, giving him a sympathetic look as she nudged the book in his direction. "I told you I'd help, and I'm going to need a sedative soon if you don't sit down and at least make a little leeway."

"You know what I think?"

"What do you think?"

"I think that you need something," he said, the wicked smirk that was previously on his face returning, and then growing some.

"Oh no," she said, eyes widening, backing up and away from his outstretched arms.

Turning ghost, he grabbed her around the waist and intangibly flew out of his house and up into the air. The only thing that was able to hear over Sam's wails of protest?

"RED BULL GIVES YOU _WINGS!_"

* * *

**End Note**: I thought that this was silly... and I decided to share. I'm a caffeine fiend, so I felt like writing something like myself. ;)

- _**A**_


	4. Cookie Dough

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be **drabbles**, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for **25foods**, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, **review **when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree. You don't want me to beg, do you? Reviews make the world go 'round, my friend.

* * *

**004 **: Cookie Dough 

**Rating **: PG-13, Light R?

**Theme **: 016. Cookie Dough

_October 3, 2007_

* * *

"...and now you're making cookies?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she entered his kitchen. First the cupcakes, now this? 

"Jazz was teaching me, but she had to go," he said, somewhat aggravated with the situation. "So, she told me the gist of what I have to do, but totally forgot to tell me how long to put them in for, so I'm probably going to have to watch them the entire time until they turn brown or some shit. They're already brown!"

"Why so intense with the cooking all of a sudden?" she asked, running a hand through her hair. At his insisting, she kept it down a bit more than usual. She surveyed the messy area, wondering what, truly, had gotten into him.

She watched him shrug, begrudgingly letting her in on his secret, "I don't know. I mean, when I'm older, I want _something_ my kids will like me for. I can't cook normal, healthy food; but, if I made the best cookies and cupcakes, they'd love me forever. Don't you think?"

Her heart melted at those words. So, he was already thinking of the future? They _were_ twenty, and they _were_ getting closer to that time... she didn't know if she was in his mind when thinking _that_ far ahead. She wondered, though.

Realizing that he was waiting for a response, she shrugged, "I can't cook much... so, basically, my kids are going to be screwed. I hope their father can cook at least _something _so they won't starve."

"He'll try," he said to himself under his breath, hoping Sam didn't hear his words.

She did. Even though it was a topic she wanted to delve into further, she decided that now was not the time.

"Why bake them at all?" she asked, inching over to the bowl of cookie dough. Sticking in a finger, she pulled out a dollop and stuck it in her mouth, savoring the taste on her tongue.

The look on Danny's face was sheer gold. With an innocent glance from Sam, she plucked her finger from her mouth. "Hm?"

"Don't you dare pull that one on me," he said, giving her a longing glance. "That was totally unfair and you know it."

"Unfair? You could have some if you wanted, it's yours," she replied, pushing the large bowl in his direction with a smirk.

Looking down at the bowl, then back up at her, his decision was made. Crossing the small distance between them, he kissed her passionately, locking his hands below her backside and hoisting her up against him, against the table. Muffling her moan of surprise, his tongue forced its way into her mouth, meeting her own. Demanding dominance, he held her hands together with one of his, allowing his other hand to wander and caress her body. Blocking her groan of disappointment, he completely devoured her in kisses, touches, and caresses.

Her groans turned into moans, and soon enough, her legs that were dangling off the edge of the counter-top were wrapped around his hips. With her limited movement, that's all that she _could_ do, and she would make her intentions known; she ground her hips against his, never breaking contact, and pulled him even closer to her, needing to feel the warmth that only he could create within her. Breaking the kiss, Danny moved alongside her jaw, nipping and biting his way to her neck. Switching between tender kisses and biting, he knew she was completely his to control; she was under his power, whether or not she would admit it. She threw her head back, panting, trying to regain her surroundings; her mind was fuzzy, her lips swollen and red.

Looking up at the ceiling, she tried to remain as composed as she could, but that was an extremely hard task with those lips of his at work. Tilting her head backwards, she looked above her once again, to see that they were not as alone as they originally intended.

Pushing him away with a gentle nudge, she whispered harshly, "Danny, stop." She lowered her legs, gaining her footing once again.

"Why?" he mumbled, looking up at her, then noticing the look in her eyes, stopped. "Something wrong?"

The sound of a female clearing her throat echoed in the kitchen.

"Sorry to interrupt," the redhead spoke, an obvious tinge of disgust in her voice, "but I forgot my purse and had to come back and get it."

With a groan, Danny let his head fall to Sam's chest. She rolled her eyes, blushing at being walked in on. She couldn't blame Jazz for being upset; this was the kitchen she grew up in and all, and they were... well, they just were there.

"Do you know where it is?" Jazz asked, now pretending that it was just an average conversation in her average kitchen.

Danny rose his head, backing away from Sam slightly to not make the situation more awkward than it already was. He shrugged.

"I swore I left it in..." she looked around the kitchen table, only to find it sitting helplessly on a chair. "There it is." She paused, looking back at her little brother and his girlfriend. "Oh yeah, Danny," she started, glancing over at the cookie dough in the bowl on the counter, "heat the cookies at 350 degrees for about twelve minutes, give or take. Okay?"

He nodded numbly, "Okay."

"Well, I _must _get going," she said, coughing slightly at the sight of them both, disheveled and flustered. She turned, ready to leave, then hesitated. Turning back, she smiled in that all-knowing way of hers and said, "Just get married already." The tone of her voice was entirely with an undercurrent of amusement, as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving the Fenton residence.

They both looked at each other with gazes of wonderment. Not knowing what to make of the situation, Sam reached to the right of her, and with a smile, took some of the cookie dough out of the bowl and smudged it along Danny's cheek. Leaning forward, she kissed and licked the substance off eagerly.

"I don't think we should bake this cookie dough," he said suddenly, looking down at her with a smile. "It comes in too handy. Besides, I'll learn how to cook for our kids eventually, right?"

"Absolutely," she responded, kissing him full on the lips. Pulling away slightly, she licked her own lips, "Mmm, chocolate."

* * *

**End Note**: How was that? Anyways, I generally wait until I get about ten reviews per chapter, but I felt like updating today since I haven't in a while. Just to let you know, I match up ten reviews per chapter. Now, since there are four, I'm probably going to wait until I get forty reviews before I post the next chapter. So, define the speed I update in, will you? The more reviews, the faster you see more of this yummy goodness. 

-_**A**_


	5. Chocolate Syrup

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be **drabbles**, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for **25foods**, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree. You don't want me to beg, do you? Reviews make the world go 'round, my friend.

**Note**: This is before they started dating.

* * *

**005 **: Chocolate Syrup

**Rating **: PG

**Theme **: 002. Chocolate Syrup

_October 14, 2007_

* * *

Finding solace underneath an arch of a local building by the park, she sat underneath the cement structure on a bench, watching the rain fall methodically. Whenever she was feeling upset or alone, she would come here and watch nature around her. She found comfort in the images of beauty that may or may not be pleasing to the normal viewer.

Sitting as so her feet were also on the bench, she went from viewing the world around her to the book she had brought along with her. She felt the calming affect of being there flow to her nerves. Her jeans were constricting in this position, but the dark blue sweatshirt, which certainly wasn't hers, draped over her frame with much room left to spare, bringing comfort.

She leafed through her book, its pages worn from use. Her mind was swimming with different emotions, but she tried to focus on reading for the sake of changing her mood. _He_ was constantly in her thoughts, though. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he was in her head.

Why was her mind in chaos?

She shuddered at the thought. She knew why.

After _it_ had happened, she had to get out of his house as soon as she possibly could without being overly rude or embarrassed.

It had started out very simple and innocent. They had decided to stay in, watch a movie, and just bond. They hadn't had much time alone in a long while, and with finals and all that jazz coming up, they figured that there wouldn't be much time to spare in the upcoming days for just hanging out. In addition to their lounging, ice cream sundaes with the works were also in order. Sitting on Danny's livingroom couch was like sitting on the beach it was so warm and relaxing, especially with the cool ice cream to mellow out that feeling. In short? Sam was certainly in a good mood. Vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup was simple and sweet, just the way she liked it. She nearly devoured it.

Noticing her behavior, Danny turned to her with a smirk, "Wow, you give me a run for my money."

She rolled her eyes with a smile edging herself closer to him on the couch, "I haven't eaten much all day, and this is delicious. So sue me." She stuck out her tongue.

Pointing at her lips, he smirked, "You got a little..." trailing off as he neared in on her, she did the first and only thing that came to mind with him is such close proximity: she kissed him. When she pulled away, her eyes were wide, but not as wide as his. Clearing her throat, she turned back toward the television screen, hoping that he wouldn't hate her for the rest of their lives at what she had done. What she didn't notice, however, was the ever-growing smirk on his face.

About a half hour after the movie ended, she found herself nearly sprinting from his house, using the excuse that the promised her Grandma that she would help her with some chores. He saw right through that, since she didn't have to do any of her chores, especially with the help she had on call in her house. She let her have her excuse, though; he would find her later and weasel the truth from her black-painted, nail-polished grip.

So, at this moment in time, Sam found herself sitting and reading, trying to stray her mind from the fact that she had intentionally kissed her best friend. The one thing that confused her the most was that he didn't pull away, didn't say a word to her about it. Did he want it, too? Was she delusional? She shook her head, trying to focus on the words that were now blurring on the page. She had to stop thinking about him, especially in that manner. It wasn't fair to him, and it certainly wasn't fair to her heart to keep going on and on, beating that subject to death. She knew that she had this argument with her mind too many times to count.

She sighed.

"Why so sad?" a disembodied voice rang out in her ears, and her heart rate sped up.

"I'm not sad," she replied, trying to keep her focus on her book. Obviously, she was failing miserably.

Checking to see if the coast was clear, he came into focus, and then transformed back into his human counterpart. "I can always tell when you have something on your mind, so tell me," he said gently, sitting on the end of the bench that wasn't occupied by her legs.

"I do have something on my mind," she compromised, "but, this time I'm not sad."

"Oh?" he questioned, glancing over at her, watching her gaze as it was transfixed on a single spot on the page. "Can I know this? Or... is it a big secret?"

"I wish you could know, but it's something I've got to let stir for a bit longer, I guess. You have your own problems, and I have mine. To each his own."

"All right, I'll buy that for the time being," he said begrudgingly, a small sigh escaping past his lips.

After a pause, she asked, finally looking at him, "How did you find me?"

"You're always here when you're upset about something, and somehow the excuse of helping your Grandma with chores didn't sit too well with me."

"Oh," she trailed off, suddenly ashamed of her poor lie. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said, then added nonchalantly, "I mean, if I had been the one to kiss my best friend and then suddenly bolt, I would feel awkward myself."

She blushed, now looking away from him. "I thought you were... but I... and then..." She sighed, "Forgive me? It can easily be taken back."

"There's nothing _to_ be forgiven for. I don't want you to take it back," he said softly, looking out at the rain now.

"You don't?" she asked, suddenly very interested in where this conversation was going.

"No, I don't," he said, getting up. "I just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing. I gotta get going, though." Grateful that she was looking up at him now, he leaned down and placed a soft, but firm, kiss on her lips, then vanished.

Shocked beyond words, she sat there with a hand to her lips.

That boy was a mystery, and eventually... someday, she would figure him out.

* * *

**End Note**: Sorry about the wait, college has certainly been kicking my ass and it will continue to kick my ass through the next week. I hope you all have enjoyed this chapter, and the next one will hopefully be up soon.

Please review!

- _**A**_


	6. Cookies

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be **drabbles**, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for **25foods**, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree. You don't want me to beg, do you? Reviews make the world go 'round, my friend.

**Note**: This is, most certainly, post-PP. **Also, please visit my profile for updated news about another challenge I am working on that cannot be posted here due to raciness.**

* * *

**006**: Cookies 

**Rating**: PG-13

**Theme**: 022. Cookies

_October 21, 2007_

* * *

His eyes darted around the room, locating anyone and anything that could get in the way of his plans. Jazz was safely locked away in her room with the death threat not to interrupt, and his parents were in the basement, completely immersed in their latest project. He was _set_. Or so he thought. 

As soon as Sam arrived, she was bombarded with her overly happy, smiling boyfriend. Smirking and rolling her eyes, she allowed herself to be tugged into his house; she adored his enthusiasm, it was a change from her outlook, and she embraced it. He was like a little puppy sometimes.

Sitting down next to him on the couch, she made herself more comfortable. As a result of a busy work-week, they decided to just relax and hang around and watch television on the big screen in his living room. It was dwarfed by the size of Sam's theater screen, but they were always over there. A change of scenery is always nice.

"Where is everyone?" she questioned, kicking off her boots to bring her feet up on the couch. She leaned against Danny's shoulder, a small smile gracing her features as he wrapped an arm around her. "Out?"

"Jazz has been forbidden to leave her room," he chuckled. "My parents are downstairs, hopefully for a long, long time. They don't come up, unless Dad has the urge for food."

"That's gutsy of you to rely on your father's will for food," she joked, eyes on the silent television in front of her. "Do we not need sound?"

"I wasn't really thinking of watching T.V. when I asked you to come over," he said sheepishly, taking the mute off . "My mind is everywhere and nowhere at the same time."

"What were you thinking of?" she asked, turning her head to look at him more clearly.

Taking this opportunity, he caught her lips with his, kissing her softly but strongly. Using his arm that he had wrapped around her shoulders, he brought her closer. He turned to make the position a bit less awkward for them; he could feel the pull in his lower back, and that wouldn't be good after about five minutes.

The sound of someone clearing her throat interrupted them. Pulling away slowly, they looked at the young adult who stood at the bottom of the stairs, her hands on her hips, a mixed expression of amusement and disgust written all over her face.

"Mind turning that down a bit? The walls here are like paper and I can hear that crystal clear. I'm trying to work on an essay," she reasoned. Still, her eyebrows were raised, and soft smirk on her face. "I didn't mean to disrupt you two, though."

"Yeah, yeah," Danny sighed impatiently, eager to get back to Sam. Grabbing the remote, he turned the volume down significantly. "Better?"

"Much. Thanks, little bro," she said, heading back up to her room.

Turning back to his girlfriend, he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows, "So, where were we?"

"I think we were _right_..." she trailed off with an impish smile, initiating the kiss this time around. Dauntlessly, she parted her lips and slid her tongue into his mouth, beginning the never-ending battle of dominance. Danny brought his hand to rest at her waist, then moved it to hold onto her hip for balance. As the kiss grew more intense, he slowly crept a hand underneath her shirt, finding himself blissfully aware of her silky smooth skin of her abdomen against his fingertips.

"Hey, Danny, have you seen the–" Jack Fenton rose his eyebrows at the scene in front of him, then chuckled as they sprung apart at the sound of his voice. "–cookies?" he lamely finished, his amusement towards his son and his girlfriend more evident on his face than his apparent need for cookies.

"Uh," Danny cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Looking around the room, anywhere but where his father was, he continued, "did you try the cabinet next to the refrigerator?"

He chuckled, heading in the direction of the kitchen, "No, not yet. Don't let your mother see you doing that, though. You know how she is."

Danny and Sam shared a confused, wide-eyed look with one another, then decided to cool it for the time being. They sat in silence for a good five minutes, watching T.V., but it just wasn't enough of a distraction. Standing suddenly, Danny grabbed Sam's hand and pulled her up from the couch. "Let's go to my room," he said, wiggling his eyebrows with a smirk, cluing her in on what they would continue to do upstairs.

"Lead the way," she replied. Taking a quick detour, they headed for the kitchen. She noticed that his mother was in there.

"Door open," she commanded off-hand to her son, grabbing a glass of water for herself and took a sip while walking back down in the direction of the lab.

Danny rolled his eyes, grabbing a handful of cookies and taking off, with Sam in tow, to his bedroom. Once safely inside, the door was immediately shut–though quietly.

They smiled at one another, glad to finally be alone. Danny set down the cookies he had in his hands, making sure to take a bite out of one before he had done so. After brushing the excess crumbs on his pants, he wrapped his arms around Sam's waist, pulling her to him. His gaze dropped as he felt their lower bodies touch; the feeling of having her so close to him still drove him mad. Moving against him only slightly, she smiled. Licking her lips, she dove for the kill, attacking his lips fiercely, forcing her tongue into his mouth as he reciprocated immediately.

His hands directly strayed to their previous resting place, resting just beneath the swell of her chest. Growing more adventurous, he brought his hands higher and cupped her breasts, caressing each with his thumbs. She shuddered at the contact, moaning into the kiss. Her hands had strayed to the hem of his shirt and slipped underneath. With a bit of pressure, she raked her nails down his toned chest, receiving a deep moan in reply to her actions.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed wet kisses down her jaw line, down to her neck. Finding a spot that he was pleasant with, he kissed, nipped, and sucked on her neck. Keeping her eyes closed, she mewled in satisfaction, running a hand through his hair. Grabbing a fistful of his ebony locks, she pulled his head up and crashed her lips to his. Pulling her hands from the inside of his shirt, she took hold of it and pulled him in the direction of his bed.

When the backs of her knees met the edge of his bed, she leaned back, bringing him down with her. Removing his hands from underneath her shirt just in time, he propped himself up without breaking the kiss. He crawled more onto the bed as she moved herself backwards to fully be on the bed. With his legs on both sides of her, he leaned closer to her, completely swept up in her kisses, her touches.

"Did you think I was kidding when I said the walls were paper thin?" Jazz asked wryly as she stood in the doorway, an eyebrow raised at the two of them going at it on his bed.

Groaning rather loudly at his sister's voice interrupting the sordid fantasies dancing around in his mind, as well as his girlfriend's lips on his own, he got up off of the bed and walked over to his sister. "What did I say about staying in your room?"

Her eyebrows furrowed and she scoffed at his attitude, "Excuse me, but I am not taking orders from you. I just said that to shut you up."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, glancing to the bed to see Sam readjusting herself. "To shut me up?"

"Yeah," she smirked, knowing he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a cookie from his desk by the door, he pushed it in his sister's mouth and shut the door in her face, making sure to lock the door this time. Nearly sprinting over to Sam, he pounced, bouncing the bed with his quick, jolting movement. They laughed, rolling around in his bed, their hands wandering all over each other.

Suddenly, a shrill cry rang in their ears from right outside the door: "_Mom! Danny slammed the door in my face!_"

They groaned softly in unison, looking disappointingly at each other, mourning the loss of privacy. After about a minute of pondering, Danny perked up at his ingenious thought. All of a sudden, he said, "How about your house?"

"Good idea."

* * *

**End Note**: What did you think of that? Let me know! Please review! 

-_**A**_


	7. Coffee

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be **drabbles**, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for **25foods**, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree. You don't want me to beg, do you? Reviews make the world go 'round, my friend.

**Happy Thanksgiving!**

* * *

**007**: Coffee

**Rating**: PG-13

**Theme**: 004. Coffee

_November 22, 2007_

* * *

"That has to be your fourth one in about an hour, Sam," he commented, glancing at her newly refilled cup of coffee. "Don't you think you're overdoing the caffeine?"

She glanced up from her laptop for a span of five seconds, enough to show him how she rolled her eyes at his comment, and then resumed what she was doing. Her fingers danced along the keyboard at a rapid pace, and he just sat there, watching her type.

"When was the last time you got ten or more hours of sleep?"

Still, no response other than a roll of her eyes.

"Have you been to bed before midnight at _all_ since school started?" he asked, watching her features for any change as a hint.

He noticed that her speed of typing slowed, as if she were coming to a realization.

"I can't help it," she said, sighing softly. She leaned back in her chair, reaching her arms over her head to stretch. Glancing down toward Danny, she smirked sleepily at him, noticing where his eyes were currently located. As an afterthought, she added, "You don't have to sit here with me, you know. I'm not holding you here."

He nodded, knowing full well that he didn't have to be there with her; somehow, he still managed to sit with her, studying her more than the textbook he brought with him for leverage. "I wanted to get some work done, too," he replied softly, glancing down at the Calculus book he had laid out on the table. He sighed. Truth was, he missed her. Sure, she was sitting there, in front of him, downing cup after cup of coffee, but it wasn't the same. He figured that if he waited around for long enough, she would eventually wear out and, at least, they could relax and–for lack of a manlier word–cuddle.

She smiled warily at him, then glanced at her laptop. Reflecting on herself, she didn't realize until now how tired she was. She was eighteen, a freshman in college, and she already felt this worn out? She glanced down at her coffee before picking up the cup and taking a sip, then another, before setting it back down.

"How much work do you have, anyway?" he asked softly, hoping she wouldn't be aggravated at him for continuously asking questions. Calculus couldn't hold his attention for long, especially when Sam was around. He didn't even know how he got into Calculus anyway.

She shrugged, then looked down at the pad of paper she had messily scrawled her assignments on before answering. "I have to finish this six page paper first, then I have to read up to chapter five for my Literature class, and for my Writing class I have to go over my final draft and write a reflection on my research, and then I have to read chapter twelve in my Psychology textbook, and then I have to take the online quiz, followed by–"

Suddenly pushing back his chair, he stood and leaned over the table to silence her never-ending list with his lips pushing against hers softly, but forcefully enough to stop her from continuing on.

After pulling away, then sitting back down, he smiled at her sheepishly. "Sorry, that was a perfect opportunity."

She smiled back at him, but as she looked down at her laptop, along with various papers and books scattered around the table, her smile faded into a frown.

"You need to relax for a bit, and _then_ hit the books," he suggested. "You won't be so worn out, and you can actually get more done that way."

She sighed, "I don't know if I can even afford to take a break."

"It's Saturday, Sam," he said with a small, lopsided grin. He shook his head, "Be like any other normal teenager and put off what you need to do until Sunday at ten o'clock at night. I'll keep you company then, too, if you want me to."

She chuckled, then closed her laptop. "All right, Fenton, you talked me out of it," she grabbed her satchel and placed her laptop and various books she had on the table inside, as well as his Calculus book, knowing he wouldn't want to carry it. "Lets go back to my dorm and just... relax."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," he replied, shutting his textbook with a triumphant grin. He was always glad she had a single room; he knew, with him constantly being around and checking in on her at random hours of the night, her roommate would hate him with a passion.

"Well," she said, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder before taking a final sip of her coffee, "we _could_ do what 'normal teenagers' do on Saturday nights. Or should I say, 'normal teenagers' in college, with no parental advisory, unlimited alcohol, and little inhibitions?"

His eyes widened at the thought. "Why didn't I suggest this sooner?"

"It's that damn Calculus, Danny, it just drains the life out of you," she chuckled at her own lame joke, then rolled her eyes at the look on his face. "What? You're rubbing off on me."

"By the looks of it, in more ways than one," he wiggled his eyebrows at her with a grin. Grabbing her hand at her side, he proceeded to lead her out of the coffee shop.

"I may be a caffeine addict, but you, my good man, are an addict of an entirely different kind," she nudged his side, an impish grin caressing her features.

"I don't hear you complaining," he shot back before pulling her in an alleyway to change into his alter ego. Wrapping his arms around her more securely, he turned them both intangible, and took off into the sky.

* * *

**End Note: **I hope you enjoyed that, and I would really appreciate if you reviewed. Also, with that ending I could branch off into another one of the prompts (either wine, or a special author's choice which involved harder alcohol). Who knows?

-**A**


	8. Wine

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be **drabbles**, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for **25foods**, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree. You don't want me to beg, do you? Reviews make the world go 'round, my friend.

There's a bit of smut in this one, as to be expected with the prompt. Nothing too graphic, though. By the way, take the poll on my author page. ;)

* * *

**008**: Wine

**Rating**: Light R

**Theme**: 015. Wine

_November 24, 2007_

* * *

"I don't know," he replied. When it came to her demeanor, she was absolutely polite and regal, showing her utmost nurturing and diplomatic sides. However, with the best laid plans, things tend to... go askew. Especially when wine was involved.

If Sam had an Achilles heel of alcohol, it would most certainly have been wine. One glass poured into another, and another, and yet another, and by the time the night was through, he felt like being around her dissipated his inhibitions as if he was drunk along with her. He, however, had to play the hero, refusing to drink more than a glass just so he could look out for his wife. She didn't have a problem; on the contrary, it was rather amusing to watch every so often.

The amount of wine she took in depended whether or not the function was family or work related, though. If one could assume, the family-related functions tended to need more.

_The first time he came into contact with Sam and her wine was while they were dating, as teenagers. _

_Ever since the incident where he flew naked through town at night, he refused to drink enough to make him forget his clothes somewhere and proudly display what Sam was so protective over._

_She had begged him to be her guest of honor at a party her parents were holding for the sake of having a large gathering of people admire their home. At first he had been hesitant due to how much her parents still didn't like him that much, but after much begging, pleading, and promises of her making it worth his while, he gave in. He could never say "no" to her, he realized. _

_At the beginning of the event, she had been diplomatic enough for him to second guess her actions for ulterior motives, but he was later told she had promised to "play nice" if they, in turn, showed the same respect for him. He smiled._

_After about half of the night had passed, however, Danny noticed that she wasn't entirely herself. The glass she was holding in her hand always seemed to be full, even though he knew she continuously drank from it. _

"_Come with me to get something out of the hall closet?" she asked, a smile gracing her features. Her cheeks were deliciously flushed, and if it weren't for her parents' constant vigilance, he would've kissed her every chance he got._

_He nodded in response, putting down his glass, and followed her. As she walked in front of him, he allowed his eyes to rake up and down her form; it wasn't all that often that he was able to see her in a dress–this dress fell under the "little black dress" category he heard so much about from movies. He appreciated every inch of it._

_As she pulled the door open, she smiled courteously and gestured for him to enter before her, graciously extending her hand for emphasis. He figured that her closet wasn't all that big, but did as he was told. The second he fully entered the closet, the door shut behind him. Immersed in darkness, he rose an eyebrow at the situation before saying anything._

"_Uh, Sam?" he asked, trying to see her outline in the dark–something, at least._

_He nearly jumped out of his skin at the contact she made with him. Her hands roamed his shoulders, his abdomen, his back, setting his senses on fire, especially when her hands trailed a little far south. Without continuing their journey downwards, but going venturing back up to his chest, his breath hitched in his throat. "S-Sam?"_

_That was the night he found out Samantha Manson was a horny drunk. _

"_Shh," she hushed. He felt her breath on his neck before her lips attached themselves, and he found it hard to keep his hands off of her any longer. Grabbing hold of her waist, he pulled her closer to him, glad that she decided to take this little detour from the party going on around them. Oh, shit. _

"_B-But Sam, the party," he breathed, whispering into the darkness. "We don't want to–"_

"_Who says we don't?" she asked defiantly before nearly bruising his lips in a kiss he would later describe as electrifying. Her hands wandered, from feeling his abdomen, to groping his backside, to..._

"_Sam!" he whispered with wide eyes as she unbuckled his belt. "I thought you had to get something in here?" he asked, trying to justify the way his voice jumped to a higher octave as a hand caressed the growing bulge in his pants. _

"_I'm getting it," she replied, the grin plastered on her face evident in her tone of voice. Dipping a hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, she freed him from confinement. _

_Lifting a leg to rest on a box that had been forgotten in the closet many years before, she pulled one of the hands that was clutching at her waist to rest on her thigh. Taking her lead, he allowed his own hand to wander up her skirt to reveal she didn't have on as much as he originally had in mind._

"_Did you lose your underwear or what?" he asked, his voice huskier than he remembered, his pulse racing as her hands explored._

"_Or what," she responded in a breath, chuckling._

"_We should get back–I mean, someone might walk in on us, Sam," he said, completely forgetting about a certain ability he had when it came to getting out of nasty situations._

"_You talk too much," she mumbled, pressing her lips to his, effectively cutting off anything else he had felt the need to say. _

He wished he could brag that the lost his virginity in the Manson's closet, but he couldn't bring himself to even attempt such a thing while she was as tipsy as she was. She, on the other hand, brought him to do something else entirely.

Realizing she was staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, he coughed into his hand.

She iterated, rolling her eyes at his tendency to daydream in the middle of a conversation, "I _said_, do you think I should get wine for the party tonight?"

"One-hundred percent, without a doubt, yes," he replied, grinning playfully at her bemused expression. "Definitely."

* * *

**End Note: **Would we all like some more smut in our lives or should we hold off? Ah, well, it's good for the soul (along with fluff, of course). Review and tell me what you think! Thank you to everyone that has reviewed thus far, as well as just reading (even though it would make me feel a whole lot better knowing what you think, those who haven't reviewed). :)

-**A**


	9. Orange Juice

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be **drabbles**, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for **25foods**, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree.

* * *

**009**: Orange Juice

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 006. Orange Juice

_December 24, 2007_

* * *

"You know, I think I haven't gotten sick this season since I drink so much orange juice," Danny grinned, feeling proud of himself for once. His ego was suddenly deflated as Sam nearly gagged at how hard she was coughing.

"Shut up," she said before looking down at the bottle of Nyquil in her hands. Pouring two tablespoons worth of that rancid-smelling liquid into the plastic cup, she blocked her nose and took the medicine like she would a shot. She stuck her tongue out in disgust.

"Ugh, that stuff tastes like shit," she grumbled, closing and then tossing the dreaded bottle to the floor. Using the last of her energy, she moved from sitting to lying down against her boyfriend on their couch. "You shouldn't be so close to me, you know, since I could get you sick."

"If I had to choose someone to get a cold from, it'd be you," he said, looking down at her, his hand absentmindedly stroking her hair. He smiled softly at her, receiving a smile in return as she closed her eyes and began to cough again. "Besides, I'm likely to catch it since we do happen to share an apartment."

The sound of painful coughing lingered in the air as she clutched onto him more tightly.

"When you get sick, you _get sick_, don't you?" he asked, frowning. He didn't like seeing her in pain or discomfort at all, especially when he couldn't do anything about it.

She sighed, "Well, at least I don't live with my parents anymore. I would have the entire medical staff of the hospital loitering in my room. I generally have a pretty good immune system, but I guess we can't all win, can we?" She gave him a sideways hug, "Thank God I have you, huh?"

He smiled down at her, still stroking her hair. "Try drinking some orange juice sometime–" he was cut off with a pinch to his upper thigh, "–ow, ow, ow! That was unnecessary."

"Just be my pillow, don't be a smart-ass," she mumbled in a raspy voice, snuggling up against him in hopes the Nyquil would knock her out.

* * *

**End Note**: So, basically, Sam and I are one in the same. I'm curious as to how I'm managing to write this after taking my very own shot of Nyquil, but whatever. Coughing this much is ridiculous, especially when you have someone (not a boyfriend) chirping happily in the background that he hasn't gotten sick due to the fact that he drinks orange juice every day. Yeah, so? I didn't ask you, and your girlfriend (my roommate) got me sick. I don't care!

Review! Since I'm on vacation now, you'll be seeing a _lot_ more from me. Be warned!

-_**A**_


	10. Lime

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(_underscore_)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree.

* * *

**010**: Lime 

**Rating**: PG-13

**Theme**: 019. Lime(s)

_January 5, 2008_

* * *

Cans littered his work area, whether they were energy drinks or cans of soda. No matter where they were, they were clutter. If he even dared to count them, they would–most likely–be in the twenties. He didn't even have the energy to count them all. 

Sitting at his desk, he mindlessly searched the internet for articles that could help him with his paper. He could fly, shoot beams of ectoplasmic energy from his hands, and freeze objects with his touch, but no, he couldn't escape the dreaded end of semester paper-o-fun. Click, click, click... Wikipedia didn't count as a source, he had to get off of it... click, click, click. With a long, aggravated sigh, he took a long swig of his soda.

The paper wasn't due for another few days, but at Sam's insistence, he figured he should listen for once and put a good dent in his paper–before midnight the night before it was due. He had a knack of procrastinating, and if it weren't for Sam... and his stash of caffeine... he would be down for the count, that's for sure. He continued to click through his computer, and due to the fact he was getting nowhere fast, especially with his attention span, he found himself on different social networking sites–solely for the entertainment value of seeing the drunken messes his former high school classmates had become in college. After he got bored of that, he clicked the bookmark to check his e-mail. Of course, there was nothing interesting in his inbox. Fucking spam–who in their right mind would be that bored to create spam and flood it out to the masses?

He took another pull of his soda after a heavy sigh. As he realized it was near the bottom of the can, he got up to grab another one from the mini-fridge on the opposite side of his dorm room. Just as he was about to make it over to the fridge, there was a knock at his door. After checking through the eye-hole, even though he knew who it was solely by the knock, he swung the door open and turned back to his business of getting his soda.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you're up this late trying to do your homework, but..." her eyes flickered over to his desk due to the shininess gleaming at her, "...Danny, how many of those have you had?"

Shutting the fridge with a soft thud, he stood at full height. Throwing her a look, he rolled his eyes, "There's no alcohol in them, ma'am, I'm completely sober."

"Though you must be absolutely wired on caffeine," she chuckled, shutting the door behind her. "You have," she paused to count, "three Rockstars, which I really hope you haven't had all today, and," she paused again, "twelve cans of Diet Coke with Lime? Do you even like Diet Coke, much less, with lime?"

"I didn't think I did, but they're scarily addictive, okay? And quite refreshing," he replied, nearly sticking out his tongue with the look on his face, opening the fresh can in his hands. "They help with this stupid paper," he grumbled, walking back over to his desk and slumping down into his chair. He watched her as she hopped up onto his bed and laid down on her stomach so she could face him.

"To each his own," she mumbled, surveying his desk once again. "How far have you gotten?"

"Facebook, maybe?"

"Danny! You haven't even started?" she frowned, leaning forward to try and glance at his computer screen. What she saw made her roll her eyes, "Sexy babe playing with–"

"Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam," he chanted, trying to delete them in his inbox.

"No, no, no, wait," she laughed, moving closer to his desk to get a better look at the subject headers. "Lustful horny housewife pleased by horny macho? What the hell does that even mean? Half of the words aren't even spelled right, either."

"It's spam!"

"Obviously," she grinned. "You don't need to look at porn. You must've signed up for something that sent your e-mail out to different..." her eyes scrolled down the subjects, "I know just as well as you do that you don't need Viagra or anything to make your–"

"Okay," he clicked out of the window and closed his laptop. "No more of that!"

Before getting up onto his bed with her, he walked to the edge of the room and flicked the lights off. The mattress bounced as he hopped onto his bed and she chuckled at the erratic movement. Without hesitation, he laid down, pulling her into his arms. Aggravated by his desk light still being on, he reached over his head to turn it off; however, instead of hitting the light, he wound up hitting the pyramid of cans he had made on his desk and sent them all, very loudly, to the floor. He groaned, burying his face into the crook of Sam's neck. With one swift movement, she reached over and turned off the light.

* * *

**End Note**: So, basically, Danny's situation is my situation. I am addicted to caffeine, I'm sure, and my poison of choice is Diet Coke with Lime. I'm drinking one even right now as I write this. It's my creative fuel that's gotten me through many projects, and I am grateful for it. Even though I would _love_ to sleep now. I tend to knock over the cans, too, but I don't make pyramids out of them. They're generally full (or close to it) and I knock them on my keyboard. I've lost a laptop that way in the past, sadly. Also, those spam subjects I wrote? Actual e-mails I've been getting, I had to look in my deleted folder to catch a few. They're ridiculous, and they _won't go away!_ They're aggravating! And they don't even spell words correctly, dammit! 

Anyways, happy reviewing!

-_**A**_


	11. Watermelon

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(_underscore_)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Please, review when you're done! Reviews make me more eager to write, as I'm sure many other authors here would agree.

* * *

**011**: Watermelon 

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 011. Watermelon

_January 15, 2008_

* * *

Standing behind him, she noticed that he was spaced out–which wasn't an uncommon occurrence. She rose an eyebrow, then leaned over his shoulder only to see that he was staring in front of him, his mouth busy at work. Shaking her head with furrowed eyebrows, she shrugged. 

"I'll bite. What're you doing?"

Jumping slightly at her presence, he turned and looked up at her. "Oh, hey, Sam," he said, _just_ noticing that she was in the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked again, confused as to why he was sitting alone, staring off into space.

"Sucking on a watermelon Jolly Rancher," he simply stated, and she just furrowed her eyebrows again. "What? What's wrong with that?"

"You're sitting alone staring at the T.V., which–by the way–happens to be off. You don't find that odd?" asked, smirking now.

"I like to savor the flavor, if you know what I mean," he joked back, wiggling his eyebrows in innuendo.

She blushed. "Yes, I know what you mean."

"Good. I'm just being overly space-y... I'm so tired," he stretched, yawning.

"Yeah, I'd imagine." Pause. "Watermelon? I haven't had that one, I don't think."

"You haven't? In all the years you've known me, you've never had one?" he asked incredulously, an eyebrow raised. "It's the best flavor out of the Jolly Ranchers."

"I'm more of a sour apple/blue raspberry kind of girl," she shrugged, not seeing why it was such a big deal to him. "What's so special about watermelon?"

"What isn't so special? It's like how you're obsessed with that... that thing," he lamely finished, not coming up with anything in time.

"Yeah, exactly how I'm obsessed with 'that... that thing'," she mimicked, rolling her eyes. "It's just a candy, Danny."

"Come here," he beckoned with a wiggle of his finger. When she was close enough, he pulled her down to sit next to him and kissed her. With the force of his tongue, he got past her lips, delivering his prized treasure.

She pulled away, now looking as thoughtful as he had been moments prior, sucking on the hard candy he was just bragging about. "Mmm... that_ is_ good."

"Watermelon_ is_ the best flavor there is!"

* * *

**End Note**: Short and (literally) sweet. Review! 

-_**A**_


	12. Ice Cream

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

_Yeah, so due to other fandoms eating me alive, my attention has been distracted from this fandom. However, even though I am now into more than one thing, I'm still going to complete everything that I've already started. Which also means that my other story based on 5(underscore)senses will be updated on Valentine's Day, just to align with the story itself (despite me saying otherwise in the first place). _

* * *

**012**: Ice Cream

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 009. Ice Cream

_February 11, 2008_

* * *

They sat in the nearest Ben and Jerry's ice cream shop, silently yet happily busying themselves with what they had bought–for one another. Danny, deciding that he would try something new for a change, was trying–and failing–to eat his Chunky Monkey ice cream cone. The cone was overwhelming, and every time he would attempt to bite off a piece, a larger piece than he intended came off, making it extremely difficult, yet amusing for his female counterpart.

Having finished her ice cream a few minutes before, she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, not even trying to hide the amused smirk on her face as she watched her boyfriend struggle to eat his ice cream.

"There's–"

"Don't say a word," he grumbled with a full mouth, trying to catch the falling ice cream that almost tipped out of the cone. He then felt a stream of ice cream trickle down his hand and grumbled again, licking it off.

"You know, I was going to tell you that was going to happen, but I think I'll just keep my mouth shut and watch," she grinned, feeling a little awkward at the fact that this was turning her on a bit, but just wanting to be entertained by his comedic act rather than call his attention to her ulterior motives.

"Oh, har har," he rolled his eyes, but to show he wasn't upset, smiled at her. Without a word, he got up to grab a spoon, hoping to minimize the mess he was creating. She pushed a napkin over to him.

"Thanks," he said, dipping the spoon into his ice cream. He heaved an melodramatic, over-exaggerated sigh,"This is ridiculous. It's winter, and yet somehow this is dripping down my hand like it's hot out. Why, ice cream, why?"

"I think this is the gods' way of getting back at you for the way you made fun of me when I got peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth," she shot back, raising her eyebrows with a small smile at his obvious discomfort.

"But, Sam," he protested with a pout, "that ended a lot differently than how it'll end now!" How could he forget? Oh, yeah, he loved peanut butter now with more passion than anyone should–it probably wasn't healthy, but...

"Who says it won't?" she shot back, the look in her eyes a bit different than before.

He seemed to finish his ice cream in record time. "Time to go!"

"I thought so."

* * *

**End Note**: Short and slightly dirty, it was something that happened to me earlier today (just not with the dirty, but my friend was having issues eating her ice cream). Thanks for reading, and please review!

Also, this alludes to the following prompt I'm going to do, which has to do with peanut butter. Just so you know what's coming next.

-_**A**_


	13. Peanut Butter

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

This one's a bit smuttier! ;)

* * *

**013**: Peanut Butter

**Rating**: PG-13

**Theme**: 017. Peanut Butter (Crunchy or Smooth)

_March 20, 2008_

* * *

Trying, and failing, to get the peanut butter off of the roof of her mouth was proving to be an amusing sight for her boyfriend. Rolling her eyes in response to his manly giggling, she did what she had to do. Plus, this could wind up being pretty interesting.

"Oops," she grinned as she pretended to slip and spread peanut butter on his cheek. "Here, let me get that for you." She first kissed his cheek and then licked her lips. "Mmm, delicious," she smiled as she licked the remainder off of his cheek. "I think I could eat like this more often."

"I'm going to have to take a shower after this, aren't I?"

"Possibly. Depends on how far I spread this peanut butter on you. I have this_whole_ jar, I wonder where exactly it could go on places I could lick off. Depends on how hungry I am, too," she reasoned, pretending to think through every step of her 'project.'

He swallowed.

"How hungry are you?"

"_Really_ hungry," she responded, just as if she hadn't eaten in days. She loved being a tease.

He couldn't help but shiver at what her words implied.

"But," she started in a tone mocking sadness, "I wouldn't want to get your clothes all dirty. Is there a way we could..."

She had never seen him take off his clothes so quickly in her life.

"...deal with that?" she finished her sentence lamely–and slightly in awe–at her boyfriend.

"Dealt."

"I can see," she replied, snapping out of her daze. "Well–"

"However," he cut in forcefully with a devious smirk, jumping on the proverbial wagon of being a tease, "what would happen if I got hungry? I wouldn't want to eat peanut butter off of myself, you know."

"Hmm," she pretended to think, a thoughtful expression on her face. "That could pose as a problem. Do you have anything to suggest?"

Within the blink of an eye, his hand was on her shoulder, pushing down the strap of her tank top along the side of her arm, repeating the action of the other strap. "Now, allow me..." he said suavely as he tugged the tank top over her head. Looking at his 'canvas', so to speak, he smiled. "Well, I have more room to paint, but... I have a feeling this picture is going to be pretty big."

"How big?" she asked.

"_Very_ big," he grinned in response to her question. "It's going to be a long process, too. I hope you can endure it."

"Oh, I know I can. I have a high tolerance for... well, anything. I put up with a lot of crap, don't you know," she smirked evilly at him, and he grinned back.

"That's what I like to hear–you know, minus the putting up with a lot of shit part, but we'll get back to that later when it doesn't hurt to wear boxers, yes?"

"Yes," she breathed, pulling him closer into a searing kiss. Breaking the kiss ever-so-swiftly, she dipped a finger into the jar of peanut butter and brought the digit to smear the substance along his lips before kissing him again. She broke the kiss only to lick her lips before diving in again.

"Too much clothes," he mumbled against her lips as he unclasped her strapless bra and tossed it to an unknown location. He praised that strapless bra; no straps to trip him up and delay time.

The next thing she knew, she was lying in her underwear with Danny grinning like a kid in a candy store who had realized he could get anything he wanted. With the jar in his hands, he dipped his finger in and proceeded to write his name along her stomach. She giggled at the cold sensation of the peanut butter but couldn't help but gaze at him lovingly with half-lidded eyes. 

Only he would do this for her–she adored his playful side and reveled in it. 

Her eyes slid shut, however, when he felt his tongue follow the letters of his name. She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one eating peanut butter?" she asked, chuckling at how the tables had turned.

"_Shhh_. Artist at work," he smirked, moving to her inner thighs.


	14. French Fries

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Wow, I'm really sorry I haven't updated this in forever and a day... I've fallen out of the fandom slightly, due to Avatar: The Last Airbender, but I feel like pulling myself back in, at least to finish the challenges I've started and the stories I've started. You'll be seeing a lot more of me since it's the summer!

And I just basically drove to a Burger King 'cause I was starving and had a craving for French Fries. So sue me! ;)

Enjoy, and please review when you finish!

* * *

**014**: French Fries

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 023. French Fries

_June 1, 2008_

* * *

"You just drove, on a whim, to go get french fries?" he asked, sizing her up, noticing she was holding a bag from the Nasty Burger in her hand. Every so often she would reach in and pull a fry out and eat it. He watched with jealous eyes.

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" She glanced down at her bag, then back up at his hungry eyes.

"You, a health-conscious individual who frowns on major fast food corporations, drove, on a whim, to go get french fries?"

"I had a craving for them, so sue me," she shrugged, rolling her eyes as she popped a fry into her mouth. "I don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of this."

"Because! You're being hypocritical," he exclaimed, looking at her like she was insane. She was always the one who told him what was right and wrong, what he should do to help the environment, and he _listened_ to her. Plus, he wanted those french fries and dammit he would get one. "You're also throwing me off!"

"Throwing you off? What am I, your moral dictionary?" she smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, basically, yes," he shot back, giving her a look. Then, realizing how ridiculous he was being, shrugged, "Nevermind, I don't know why I was so shocked. Can I have a fry?"

"No."

"No? Why the hell not?" Danny frowned, furrowing his eyebrows at her.

"You, as Tucker would say, 'hated' on my french fries since I decided to go buy some."

"You could've gotten someone to get them for you or even made them yourself. Hell, I would've gone out and gotten them for you if you didn't hate people waiting on you so much." He tried reaching for a fry, but she swatted his hand away.

"Excuse you," she pseudo-glared at him, pulling the french fries even further out of reach from him. "I felt like leaving the house, and I wanted to have something salty, greasy, and fattening. Do I have to check in with you, _Dad_, before I do everything?"

He sighed. "No, you don't. It's just out of character for you, I guess."

"Eating french fries is out of character? Eating _meat_ would be out of character, Danny. I haven't done that, yet, have I?"

"_Yet_?"

"You're reading too much into everything I say," she dead-panned.

"Can I–"

"No."

"But–"

"I said 'no'!"

He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. "Fine."

Pause.

"Can I have one now?" he asked cheekily, grinning at her.

"_Danny_."

"What? What's a single fry going to do? Donate to the needy, woman!"

Sighing, she thrust the entire carton of fries in his direction. "You know what? I don't want them anymore. Have them, by all means."

The look of glee on his face broke her unhappy expression and she just rolled her eyes at him. "You are such a kid sometimes, I hope you know that."

"I just wanted french fries," he replied, his mouth now full. "I knew I loved you for a reason."

"Because I feed you?" she smirked, giving him a dry look. "Oh, you're such a romantic. And don't speak with your mouth full, that's disgusting."

"Yes, _Mom_."

"No, you know what? I was trying to be nice," she began, then swiped the french fries out of his grasp, "but you don't deserve these. I paid for them, and they're mine. You still owe me for me buying you lunch yesterday. Buy your own!"

"Hey! Indian giver!"

"Blah," she ate a fry, "blah, blah."

He pouted for a good minute before she rolled her eyes and stuck a fry in his mouth.

"You big baby."

"Thank you!"


	15. Gummy Bears

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

This has been sitting unfinished for a while, but I just got the urge to finish this, and I feel this one came out more adorable than planned. You be the judge!

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish!

* * *

**015**: Gummy Bears

**Rating**: PG-13

**Theme**: 012. Gummy Bear(s)

_July 4, 2008_

* * *

He nudged her.

She nudged back.

He tossed a Gummy Bear in her direction, not knowing where it would land.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, a smirk on her face. She knew he was watching her secretively; she could feel his eyes on the side of her whenever she would look back at the screen, lingering like she didn't notice them at all. They lingered like she had never noticed them before, stepping into dangerous territory.

She wondered how throwing Gummy Bears at her would help him in that department, but she didn't dare question his mind–as like her own, it was a dangerous territory to even try to guess what was going on in it.

Without a word, he placed a Gummy Bear on her knee, and when she looked over at him, he was watching the movie like he had never even moved.

She rolled her eyes with a smile, popping the candy into her mouth as she turned her eyes back to the movie.

The armrest grew to be forbidden territory, each arm being pushed off the edge every so often. Thus, the war of dominance began, in the most innocent way possible–or so it seemed.

The movie itself was pretty boring, and even though they had seen it before, they needed an excuse to get out of their houses and spend time together–especially when Tucker decided it would be wise to take a step back and allow them to bask in the glory of each other. He gave some lame excuse of having to catch up with a video game, but Sam knew better. He was giving her an opportunity.

Neither Danny nor Sam complained.

They sat in the back of the movie theater, hiding in the shadows of the large seating area, back up by the projector's booth. Stadium seating helped their situation, since everyone was seated around the middle, leaving them in the back to play around without receiving any reprimanding stares of hushes.

She reached into the bag that was placed on Danny's lap and fished around for some Gummy Bears, purposely brushing up against him through the bag.

Unknown to Tucker, they had been dating for some time now.

She innocently pulled her hand out of the bag with a few pieces of candy inside her grasp. After popping one into her mouth, she side-tossed another at his head, stifling a giggle when it made direct contact with his cheek.

"Hey!" he whispered, smirking, though still looking suspiciously at her.

She, however, looked the epitome of innocence.

He gave her a jokingly sour look before eating another Gummy Bear, his eyes trained on her the entire time as she sipped on her soda, still playing innocent.

Danny placed another Gummy Bear on Sam's leg, and waited for her to reach for it before putting his hand on top of hers, trapping her hand, as well as the candy inside it, to her leg. She looked at him curiously, wondering what he was up to, but all he did was take her hand and bring their arms back up to the armrest between them, lacing their fingers together. She smiled, blushing a little bit, finding his trap awfully endearing, albeit a little dorky.

With her free hand, she took the candy off of her leg and put it into her mouth. She sucked on the sweet candy, her eyes on the screen in front of her. Reaching sideways, she took another piece of candy out of the bag, placing it, this time, on his leg. As he began to reach for it, she beat him to it, taking the Gummy Bear and tossing it into her mouth with an impish grin. Wordlessly, she leaned forward suddenly and kissed him, to which he reacted, kissing her back with equal fervor.

She deepened the kiss, tracing her tongue along his bottom lip, asking for entrance. Without a second's hesitation, he opened his mouth to her, and their tongues met. Her free hand cupped his cheek while the grip on their intertwined fingers grew stronger. They continued to kiss for what seemed like eternity, forgetting about the movie and the people there, as well.

When they finally pulled away to catch their breaths, he furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully and began chewing the Gummy Bear that had made it from her mouth to his before chuckling. She grinned in response, unconsciously licking her lips.

After swallowing, he moved in to kiss her again, which she accepted, but made it much shorter than their previous kiss.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asked, his eyes darting down every so often to take in the sight of her swollen lips.

She worried her bottom lip before nodding, grinning at his proposition. "It seems we can't go anywhere in public anymore without the need to jump each other, doesn't it?" After he nodded in agreement, she asked, "Your house or mine?"

"Right now, I really don't care." His baby blue eyes spoke volumes that couldn't make it past his own lips.

"My house it is."

The movie had a good hour to go until it was finished, but they had already seen it, so there was no point in hanging around–they had better things to do.


	16. Honey

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested.

* * *

**016**: Honey

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 013. Honey

_August 7, 2008_

* * *

"This is disgusting," he gagged, trying to get the taste off of his tongue. "How the hell is this supposed to make my throat better?"

"The honey is supposed to coat your throat in order for you to swallow easier, genius. It shouldn't be that hard to figure out," she replied, rolling her eyes at his behavior as she placed the jar of honey and spoon on his night stand. "You asked me for my help and here it is. Why are you complaining?"

"Because it tastes gross," he gagged, coughing. He frowned sourly at her, not liking her method of treatment, but trusted her nonetheless. "Thanks for the help, though, Sam." His frown softened into a watery smile before he coughed again, moaning and flopping on his back again on his bed.

"You're welcome," she responded, placing her hand on his forehead to see how hot he felt. "I also feel partially responsible for your cold, so..."

"Ah, you're helping me out of guilt, aren't you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her playfully before dropping that expression and shrugging. "Doesn't matter, though, since this sore throat was totally worth it."

"Oh, yeah?" she asked, sitting down on the bed next to him. "How so?"

"There are plenty of points from a couple days ago that make getting sick worth it–a lot of good points."

"Care to elaborate, Mr. Vague?"

"One, making out outside during thunderstorms is my new favorite thing..." he grinned at her blush, recalling how much she had loved it, as well. "Two, being with you anywhere, in the first place, is a good enough reason for me to get sick, especially when... you know... happens," he blushed, but she didn't notice since his face was flushed anyways from the coughing earlier.

"Oh, I know," she responded softly, playing with his hair. "Twice." He noted the expression on her face with interest, admiring the way her cheeks were lightly tinted with that blush he admired so much. For being so pale, it was a beautiful contrast to her already gorgeous features.

"Just sitting under our tree makes everything better," she spoke after a couple minutes of silence, still playing with his hair. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of her hands in his hair. He absentmindedly praised himself for not cutting it lately. "Don't you think?"

He nodded slowly. He coughed a couple times before responding, "That brings me to my next point: three, how we spend our time at our spot, especially when no one can get to it without flying there. It's like our own personal getaway."

She kissed the crown of his head with a chuckle. "You've turned into a romantic sap, Danny Fenton."

"Don't even deny that you've rubbed off on me," he shot back, giving her a look. "You're the one at fault, here. You're more romantic than you let either of us," he said, referring to himself and Tucker, "know in the first place. How was I supposed to know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," she dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. "Whatever. Tucker had an idea when I became a jealous wreck on occasion." She gave him a playful pat on the head when he laughed.

They sat in silence, just listening to each other's breathing, Danny's being the most noticeable out of the two due to his sinuses. Sam stood suddenly, going over to the door and shutting it securely, not even bothering with the lock–his parents didn't notice them, either, when they broke down the door by accident.

He watched her curiously until he couldn't see her anymore when she flicked off the light and plunged them into darkness.

"May I ask what you're doing?" he asked.

He heard her shuffle back over to his bedside and kick off her boots, blushing slightly as he heard her tights follow.

"You may. I'm getting into bed with you," she responded, yawning suddenly, alerting Danny to how tired she actually was. "Your parents won't mind. I'll just say I got tired babysitting you all night. If you haven't noticed, they're already trying to plan our wedding along with my mother."

"I've noticed," he responded, pulling her down onto the bed with him, moving over so she could get underneath the blankets with him. "Though... aren't you afraid you're going to get sick?"

"It'll be worth it," she responded, nuzzling against him, her head leaning against his shoulder.


	17. Strawberries

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested in what I'm writing.

* * *

**017**: Strawberries

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 001. Strawberry(ies)

_August 14, 2008_

* * *

Sam sat there with a bowl of strawberries next to her, watching television, when he phased into the room.

Just a simple bowl of strawberries, no whipped cream of chocolate dipping sauce necessary for her to enjoy the fruit.

Teenagers would have a bag of chips or some candy to tide themselves over while they watched TV; but, no, she had to have a simple bowl of strawberries. The way she ate them drove him mad, too. She shouldn't hold that power over him so carelessly–hell, of even so unknowingly.

"Are you going to stare or are you going to keep me company?" she asked, not even turning to where he was hovering by the window. She had always been talented in sensing where he was, even when he wasn't tangible–he had yet to investigate that fact, though that wasn't his reason for being there.

Just then he realized what she was wearing, finding the need to stare stronger than before, his eyes previously focused on her mouth. She was wearing a pair of black shorts and lacy, low-cut tank top, and he found it impossible to not find that more appealing than anything else any other girl in the world was wearing.

"Staring's nice."

"Of course," she chuckled. Switching her sitting position to Indian style, she placed the bowl in her lap, making it easier to eat.

Phasing into sight and changing back into being primarily human, he sat next to her, instantly wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Whatcha watchin'?" he asked, smiling at how easily her head found its way onto his shoulder.

"Beetlejuice," she responded as if she had seen the movie millions of times and it was the only thing on, now, to watch. He assumed she _had_ actually seen the movie way too many times to count.

Making a small 'hn' noise in the back of his throat, he pulled her closer to him, his eyes on the television screen in front of them.

"Want one?" Sam asked after a couple minutes, holding up a strawberry close to his mouth. Without saying anything, he leaned forward and bit off piece of the fruit with a smile while he chewed.

"They're organic," she said as an afterthought, eating the rest of the strawberry he bit from, tossing the inedible part into the bowl with the others before picking up another.

"Of course they would be," he grinned, turning to look at her. She rolled her eyes, though with a small smile on her face.

"So, although I'm not upset by this sudden intrusion–far from it, what brings you here?" she asked, chuckling quietly at the kiss she received on her forehead before finishing her question.

"Can't a guy come see his girlfriend whenever he wants to without any ulterior motive?"

"With you, there's always something," she replied, giving him a look.

"I missed you, you know."

"I know," she managed to get out before his lips were on hers.

His arm moved that was around her shoulders so he could cup her cheek with that hand while he leaned into her. Without thinking, she moved her legs so she would be more comfortable over an extended period of time, forgetting about the bowl of strawberries altogether that were perched in her lap. Sam remembered a second too late as the bowl tumbled to the floor, onto the carpeting, sending strawberries flying in all different directions.

They paused in their kiss without moving far, foreheads together. She heaved a sigh, her frown deepening at his laughter.

"You're picking them up," she mock-glared at him, pulling away from his embrace as she crossed her arms over her chest.

His eyes immediately darted to her chest, which was more in sight now due to her movement, and darted back up to her eyes that had seen what he had just done. He chuckled nervously, holding up his hands in defense, crossing his index fingers over one another in a pathetic attempt to ward off her anger.

She rolled her eyes with a grin, not as angry as he would've imagined her being, and pulled him to her, into another kiss.

The strawberries could wait a little while.


	18. Butter

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

It's been a while, no? Don't worry, I still intend on finishing this series. The last prompts are difficult, but I'll manage.

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested in what I'm writing.

* * *

**018**: Butter

**Rating**: PG-13

**Theme**: 008. Butter

_March 9, 2009_

* * *

"Oh wow, the room smells horrible... what the hell did you make?" Sam asked, stepping into her boyfriend's dorm room.

The television was on, and Tucker was already lounging on his own bed with a handheld computer as usual. "Popcorn," the techno geek responded, reaching for the bowl by him and tossing a few pieces into his mouth. "Made a couple bags for the movie whenever this one over here decides whether he's going to continue procrastinating or actually get work done."

"Why does it smell so bad?" she asked, ruffling Danny's hair as she passed by him. He stared at the blank Word document on his screen with a hopeless expression.

"It's the movie butter kind or some nonsense," Danny shrugged, heaving a grand sigh before shutting his laptop. "What's up, Sam?"

The girl in question leapt up easily on Danny's bed that was high up with risers. She suspected Danny had the aid of ghost powers whenever he got up on his bed. She just had athletic skill, which was something that was handy in the most random places nowadays, it seemed.

"Eh, nothing, just bored," she said, crossing her legs, perched on the edge. "I finished my final paper a couple days early and now I'm just coasting until finals."

"Same," Tucker mumbled, eating more popcorn.

Danny, also with popcorn, ate a few kernels before offering the horrid-smelling bag to Sam who politely shook her head in response. She didn't want to eat something that smelled so offensive, even if it _was_ popcorn. After living in a place that had its own movie theater and popcorn maker, she doubted she could ever return to the horrible kind of popcorn that could be purchased in mass quantity at a bulk supplier.

Danny grumbled, letting out another sigh. "I have two final papers, a project, and a lab to still go to. Why do you guys get off so easily?"

Sam and Tucker looked at each other and shrugged. "We pay attention to the syllabus before the day the work is due, so we get ahead?"

He didn't even respond, just heaving yet another sigh.

"Aw," Sam moved to lie on her side, then her stomach to get more comfortable, on his bed. "I can be your motivation to get your work done with time to spare. How about that?" she propositioned, grinning at his reaction. With her lying on her bed like that, just asking for it...

"Oh, ew, is this what I think I'm witnessing?" Tucker rolled his eyes, eating more popcorn. Sam didn't know how he was 'witnessing' anything with his eyes glued on his PDA.

"Shut up, Tucker," Danny hissed at his best friend before turning back to his other best friend in hopes she would continue. "You were saying?"

"With that paper..." she trailed off, reaching out to grab the piece of paper the assignment was written on. "Oh, it's only a three page paper. Danny, you're complaining about nothing–"

"It's not your paper," he sing-songed, making a move to snatch the paper back.

"No, no, I'm not finished yet." She scanned the sheet, a plan formulating in her mind. "How about this... for every page you complete, I'll give you a surprise... like a back rub or a kiss or a–"

"Blow–"

"Shut up, Tucker!"

Danny chuckled lowly, "Yeah, I wouldn't get that even if I finished the–"

"Finish your sentence and you're a _fully _dead man," Sam glared at Danny. "Do you want my help and motivation or not? Because I don't have to help you, you know. You're a big boy, now–"

"That's what she–"

"Tucker!"

"Shutting up."

"–and you can do your own papers. Am I right or am I wrong in this instance?" she asked, glaring back and forth between the two pig-headed young men. When they remained quiet with small frowns on their faces, she nodded with a huff of breath. "Exactly."

In her triumph, she stuck her hand into the bag of popcorn on Danny's bed and popped a handful into her mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, she was confused over the taste. "It's way too salty," she complained, sticking out her tongue in distaste.

"Well, that's why you won't–"

"I dare you to finish that sentence, Fenton."


	19. Sushi

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested in what I'm writing.

* * *

**019**: Sushi

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 024. Sushi

_March 19, 2009_

* * *

"But it's vegetarian, what's wrong with–" she pouted, gearing up for an argument as she saw the impatience on his face. He was itching to fight with her lately, she noticed. He was picking every little thing to bicker about, but... sometimes it was cute, but now it was just annoying.

"That's it! That's what's wrong with it. Can't a guy just eat regular food from regular places without any special names I can't pronounce or... quantities that look like it wouldn't even properly feed an infant..." He knew he didn't sound like he knew what he was talking about or even trying to argue. He hadn't gotten much physical fighting in for a while and it was starting to take a toll on his marriage; not a bad one, per se, but just... an unpleasant one.

"When you're done with the futomaki, you'll be full. Stop being a wise-ass," Sam rolled her eyes, popping one of the offending pieces into her mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, she glared softly at him.

"I'm not being a wise-ass, I just want to know why you want me to try this so much," he argued lamely. He was losing. He knew it.

"Because! I just want to have more foods in common with you, and if you don't try anything every once in a while, how is that going to change? We can't eat pizza for the rest of our lives!" she pouted again, knowing it was a weak point of his; the strangest things turned him on.

"I eat salad, too!" he protested, averting his eyes from those lips of hers.

"Pizza and salads, that's rich. Remind me to thank you when our children have nutrient deficiencies. Balance is necessary!"

"Now who's jumping the gun?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the sudden topic shift. How was she arguing her point by bringing in another variable?

"Don't change the subject." Her eyes moved away from his, and he was definitely curious by the lack of eye-contact.

"What?"

"Oh, you know what. You're just trying to complain your way out of trying this. Would you rather raw fish or vegetables? Pick the lesser of two evils, Danny!"

"Vegetables," he responded like it was the easiest question in the world to answer. The word died on his lips with a nasty edge.

"Well, then..." she trailed off, giving him a defeated look. "If you don't want to try it, I won't force you to. Though, it would mean a lot to me if you did," she said, passively, as she crossed her legs. Her eyes were elsewhere, yet again.

Seeing the morose look on her face, he frowned at the fact that he put it there. "Alright, alright. I'll try a piece. If I like it, I'll finish it. If not, you can't yell at me and say I didn't try it properly enough, alright?"

"That's all I ask," she smirked at him, clearly smug that she won their small argument. Mrs. Fenton, however, tried to keep her win under control, keeping her smirk to a minimum in order for him to actually try the offending piece of sushi.

Taking the chopsticks, he fumbled with them for a bit before holding them out to Sam with a huff, a voiceless help request posed to her.

Sam took them with a smile, positioning them in her own hand before picking up a piece of the sushi, dipping it quickly into the soy sauce, and lifting it up to Danny's mouth. He opened his mouth and allowed the piece of sushi in; he chewed, tasting, hoping that he wouldn't let her down. He was... surprised. It wasn't horrible. It wasn't offensive, nor was it actually raw. It was just vegetables wrapped up with rice and seaweed. Alright, then.

"You win, Manson."

"Fenton," she corrected.

A pause.

"So, uh," he picked another piece up with his hand instead of bothering with chopsticks, "why are you worried about future children's dietary habits?"

She ate a piece of the futomaki that remained on her plate, trying to remain passive while doing so; it wasn't an easy task. She could only pull it off without making eye contact.

"That's another conversation entirely that I want you to have an empty stomach for."


	20. Mustard

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested in what I'm writing.

Mustard is hard to write for, alright? Sorry for the length. If you know how to make mustard romantic or amusing, let me know.

* * *

**020**: Mustard

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 020. Mustard

_March 29, 2009_

* * *

It was a normal afternoon after classes, and as normalcy went, they arrived at the Nasty Burger without delay.

What _was_ delayed, however, was the friend that made up their trio; so, the other two members of the group decided to go ahead and eat, figuring that Tucker would catch up with them in record time if he did actually show.

After ordering and settling into their usual booth, they chit-chatted about small, pointless things as they normally did. They waited for their friend to arrive and bring the juicy gossip (hardly) that majoring in a field of technology had to offer.

The couple humored him, mostly, while he rambled on and on about the one girl that had entered the department: he _swore_ she was into him, but they deducted that she was just there for the sake of being there for the advances in the department. They wouldn't let him in on that secret, however.

After a small lull of silence filled with a great amount of chewing, Sam spoke. "Why do they always put mustard on everything at the Nasty Burger?"

"Yeah, that's a good question. Not like you eat the burgers or anything, like we do, but still... good question. I'm not a big fan of it, but I'll put up with it," he spoke, mouth full, and Sam could only roll her eyes at him.

She stuck out her tongue in distaste, back to the conversation at hand. "Grey Poupon, alright. It has some spice to it. Regular yellow mustard, so ugly and bright, all over your food? It grosses me out."

He grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrows in jest, "Well, now you know how it feels to have someone see you eat your grass sandwich or whatever it is you eat–"

"Oh, shut up, you," she said, rolling her eyes and taking a bite of her vegetarian sandwich. "I don't make you eat that, so don't complain."

"You used to try!" he argued, shooting her a defiant look.

"'Used to' being the key phrase in that sentence, Fenton," she said, popping a french fry into her mouth.

"Either way, it's disgusting."

"Just like the yellow mustard," she said sweetly, giving him a smirk before flinging a french fry in his direction.


	21. Banana

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested in what I'm writing.

* * *

**021**: Banana

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 018. Banana(s)

_May 1, 2009_

* * *

He peeled the banana, eyes trained on his hand that was doing the action of peeling. He didn't eat bananas too much, but after Sam's insistence (since he had been doing a lot more running lately) he figured he'd listen to her. Not that her voice wasn't melodic to his ears or anything, he had enough nagging to get the point.

"You know, bananas are a pretty phallic food. I don't know if that amuses me or makes me uncomfortable," he said, taking a generous bite out of the banana, chewing thoughtfully as he pondered over the whole idea.

"Ever since you learned the word 'phallic' you've been trying to integrate it into real life situations as much as you can, do you know that?" she asked, flipping a page of her book as she continued to read.

"Certain people like to learn new vocabulary and use it a certain amount of times per day or week... or something like that," Danny frowned, taking another bite. "Can't you applaud my efforts for trying to sound sophisticated?"

"By using 'phallic'? How is that sophisticated? Danny, pick another word," she chuckled, a small smile staying on her face. "I don't want you to be obsessed with bananas the way you had a fixation on cucumbers and peanut butter after... well, you know what."

"See, if you were eating this banana we'd be in that type of situation." He nodded curtly with a grin on his face. "Though, I don't think you have that idea when it comes to me, I hope?"

The look on her face was between amused and mortified, as if she couldn't decide on an emotion to exhibit and went with a cross between the two. "Oh, you want me to eat the banana?"

He looked interested until she leaned forward, pushing her book aside, to take a forceful bite out of the food.

He just looked scared, now.

"Couldn't you be a bit nicer to the banana?"

"If you stop using the word 'phallic' I may," she responded with a cheeky grin as she leaned back and righted her book on her lab while she chewed.

"Deal, but I have a better substitute for the banana."

"Danny!"


	22. Grapes

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested in what I'm writing.

* * *

**022**: Grapes

**Rating**: PG-13

**Theme**: 005. Grape(s)

_May 15, 2009_

* * *

She laid back on the couch, stretching lazily as she watched her boyfriend come into the room with a bowl of grapes. They were spending the afternoon together, just deciding to hang around rather than to do anything specific and relax.

Sam sat up as Danny neared, and when he sat where she had her head before, she laid back down, resting against his lap. Resting the bowl of grapes on the arm of the couch, he took out a single grape and froze it with the tip of his finger before popping it into his mouth. His eyes were trained on the television.

He had enough practice, something she was sure of, and when he was about to pop the next frozen grape into his mouth, she directed his hand to her own mouth.

"If you wanted some, all you had to do was ask," he grinned down at her before freezing another one and holding it out to her expectantly.

"Why ask when I can just have you feed me?" she asked, smiling back at him. "Besides, we don't get moments like these too often, so... can't I cherish the moment?"

"Can I mouth-to-mouth feed you?" he asked innocently, as if he knew she would shoot down the idea the second it left his mouth.

"Am I a baby bird?" she shot back, raising a brow at his odd request. She made a chirping noise as if she were actually a bird and he stuck his tongue out at her.

"_Maybe_."

"Oh, really," she smirked, sticking her tongue out back at him. "Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of the frozen grapes, though?"

"Miss Manson, are you claiming that I'm hot?"

"Your mouth is, I'll admit. When it's not making that shit-eating grin you have on your face right now," she added as an afterthought as the grin on his face grew.

"I'll take that."

"You're not feeding me like a baby bird, though," she dismissed his idea with a wave of a hand. "That's just ridicu–"

"I'm not regurgitating it," he defended, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Pursing his lips, he put a grape between them and leaned down making what semi-resembled kissing noises. Giggling, she tried to wiggle out of his embrace, which left her in a dangerous dangling position, hovering above the rug. Righting herself, she wiggled the other way.

"No, no," she laughed, deciding to slide down the couch, away from him. Despite this flawless plan, all couches had to come to an end somewhere, thus leaving her at the end of her rope... unless she wanted to start a chase throughout the house, which she didn't know if she had the strength for at that present moment in time.

When he realized she wouldn't give, he sucked the grape into his mouth and chewed, chuckling at her actions. "I'll get you," he vowed.

"One of these days, maybe." She figured it was safe to move back up to his lap and relax yet again. Opening her mouth expectantly, he dropped a frozen grape into the opening. "Thank you," she smiled.

"Wiggle like that again in my lap and you'll be getting an entirely different kind of 'thank you,' my dear."

"Why do you ruin every wholesome moment with a dirty pun?"

"Because they're funny."


	23. Cinnamon

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested in what I'm writing.

Oh, look! A character from another story of mine.

* * *

**023**: Cinnamon

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 007. Cinnamon

_May 18, 2009_

* * *

The sound of thunder echoed throughout the household, though, only waking one of its occupants. The young girl sat up in her bed, surveying the area of anything that could possibly jump out at her. Gripping the blanket, she continued to look, turning her head slightly each time, just in case something frightening was there about to take her to an alien planet. _Or to the mall_, she thought, shuddering. She obviously took after her mother in this regard.

Lightning shone throughout the dark sky, illuminating her dark room, and thunder soon accompanied the light.

She jumped out of her bed and did the first thing her instincts told her to do.

_Mama will save me._

She opened her parents' bedroom door and peeked in with a hand over her eyes–just in case. Ever since that _one_ time, she always walked in with a hand over her eyes to spare her the sight. It was embarrassing enough, and she would be able to live a happy life if she didn't have to see what she had seen _ever again_.

Seeing her father on the floor with half of the blankets, she giggled quietly; she figured her mother had either pushed him off or he fell off on his own accord. She smiled down at him lovingly, then pulled the blankets over him entirely so he'd be warm; she always looked out for her daddy.

Her mother, now, was in the middle of the bed, sleeping peacefully, spread-eagle just like her father would've been if he was still on the bed. The young girl walked up to her mother and whispered, "Mama... _Mama._"

Her mother didn't shift, but one eye did open. Soon, the other eye opened when she saw her daughter standing there. Sitting up, she yawned and rubber her eyes sleepily.

"Hmm? What time is it?" she asked, looking around for the other occupant of the bed that was supposed to be there. Figuring out what must have happened, she stopped her search and leaned over his side of the bed. Seeing him lay on the ground, yet again, was enough to make her chuckle quietly to herself. Getting herself better situated on the bed, she looked over to her daughter with a thoughtful expression, waiting for her answer.

"Uh... it's around two," she hesitantly replied, not sure how her mother would react.

"What's wrong? Night–"

Her question was answered when the lightening flashed and the thunder crashed. She and her daughter both flinched at the loud boom.

"Ah. There's nothing to worry about, Em. It can't hurt us, especially when we're inside."

She stood there embarrassed, "Mama... could I... stay with you tonight?"

Sam smiled, turning and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. As soon as her feet touched the warm carpeting, she sent a glance back in the direction of her fallen husband. She over exaggeratedly rolled her eyes at her husband.

The young girl giggled, trying to steal a glance of her father around the bed.

Sam continued, chuckling softly to herself, "He seems to be busy on the floor. First, though, let's settle that stomach."

The young girl smiled, knowing that her mother could guess how she was feeling and knew how to immediately remedy that unease. She didn't know why, but every time the thunder and lightning woke her up from a sound sleep, her stomach was sent into turmoil. Her favorite treat always managed to cheer her up, no matter what.

A few minutes and a scene change later, they were in the kitchen. Pulling up a bar stool, Emily sat at the island in the middle of their kitchen while Sam prepared her favorite snack.

While she cut up the apples, Sam asked, "Why do you think you get so scared when it comes to storms? Did you had a bad dream or something that storms remind you of, or...?"

She shrugged, "Dunno. It just... the loud noises just make me jump and get me all off-center. It's weird."

"I used to be afraid of storms, too," Sam admitted softly. "Only until your father and I started sharing a bed did I stop being afraid. I knew that he would be able to protect me from anything, and the fear went away. That's probably why you come to me in the middle of the night whenever there's a storm."

The young girl nodded, "Makes sense."

After a few more minutes, Sam walked over and placed a plate of apple slices covered with sugar and cinnamon. It was a snack that her mother had made for her when she was small, and it was basically the only cooking tip she had taken from dear Pamela in her lifetime.

"Thanks, mama," she smiled, taking a piece.

"Anytime," she replied, taking a piece for herself, too. "Your father misses out on all the good stuff, doesn't he?"

"Except the floor," they were greeted by a sleepy voice. "The floor and I are apparently best friends. Kick me off again, dear wife?" Danny rose an eyebrow at Sam who simply smirked back at him. He looked so boyish with his hair sticking out in all directions–it brought back fond memories.

Holding up a piece of the sweet apple as a truce, Sam said, "I don't remember, but it's entirely possible."

He opened his mouth, taking in the piece. After making a noise of contentment, he murmured, "Mmm, cinnamon. So, uh, why's everyone up so late?"

"I got scared," Emily supplied softly through bites of her apple. "It's alright if I say with you and mama tonight, right?"

"Of course," he said without missing a beat as he reached for another piece of the apple. He didn't even realize that it had been storming out, much less raining, but was a total sucker for his only child–he didn't require further prompting. "We should have parties like this more often, these apples are yummy."

"That's just cause they're covered with cinnamon and sugar, fatty," she glanced at him with a look on her face.

"Who're you calling fatty, chubs?" He tried to grab another piece, but now his hand was slapped away.

"Now you can return to the floor, ingrate."

Emily giggled at her parents' bickering; she knew, even with their faults, they loved each other and that's all that mattered to her. That was an entirely different kind of storm she wouldn't know about for a _while _(especially if her Daddy had anything to say about it). For now...

She was safe.


	24. Salad Dressing

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Enjoy, and **please review **when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested in what I'm writing.

This one was difficult. Ugh. The original concept had been written for a while, but I had to work in the actual food. Such insignificant food that has to be focused on in a bigger scale... hard!

ONE LEFT, GUYS. FINALLY.

* * *

**024**: Salad Dressing

**Rating**: G

**Theme**: 010. Salad Dressing

_May 28, 2009_

* * *

Sam wistfully looked out the window, wishing she was somewhere, anywhere but where she was. This was the feeling she normally had whenever in school; she did well, got amazing grades, but she felt like she could be doing something more, helping people, or just... not wasting her time in her math class. Math was pointless.

Sitting in fourth period class, she almost felt the cliché coming on as she hesitated to watch the clock, the seconds-hand inching closer and closer to its predestined time. Senior year forced the trio of friends–her, Danny, and Tucker–into different schedules that pushed them further apart from one another. It's not like they didn't spend time together outside of school, and it wasn't like she wasn't dating one of them, either. Even so, after being together kept her sane and on her toes... without them around to cheer her out of her gloom, she was just Madame Happiness all around. You could see the storm cloud above her head if you looked close enough.

Sleepiness clouded her senses, as it had all day long up to this point, and all she wanted at this exact moment in time was to go to bed. Mondays were the worst, especially after a long, eventful weekend. Ghost sightings here, ghost brawls there, the occasional duck-and-cover; those things were everyday occurrences now, and she grew accustomed to the excitement of her day-to-day life. There _was_ supposed to be a date thrown in there, as well, but she didn't need those things to keep her content (but she wouldn't hold her breath on them occurring, either–something _always_ came up to pull him away, as was life).

The boring days, the schools days, were the ones that took a toll on her the most; she could always think of somewhere she'd rather be, something she'd rather be doing, someone she'd rather be with… and that's exactly where her mind was right now.

She looked down at the piece of paper on her desk with a bored expression, her pencil tracing over a previously drawn picture she was all too familiar drawing. Damn that emblem.

Sam couldn't help it, she _was_ like one of those girls she overheard gushing about their boyfriends and how amazing their lives were together... even if she was less vocal about it. The internal monologue was enough to set her straight; she wouldn't want anyone to hear her out-of-character gushing. That was what her journal was for, anyway; no one needed to read that shit but her.

When the bell rang, she was extremely grateful for the scene change.

Stuffing her books into her locker after rushing out of the classroom, she dragged herself to the cafeteria. Looking around to spot her boyfriend and her best friend, who always managed to get there before she did and grab their usual table, she spotted them and headed over.

If there was one thing you could count on Danny for were the little things; granted, Tucker would playfully make a gagging noise and roll his eyes, but they knew he supported them.

She received a chaste kiss on her cheek as she sat down, figuring that could go up and get her salad when she line calmed down. That was her plan, until she noticed that Danny had an extra salad on his tray that was pushed over to her.

"Here."

Taken back by the gesture, she smiled, "Thanks, Danny."

In an unladylike manner, she ripped the packet of salad dressing with her teeth (which evoked a laugh from Tucker who was scarfing down some unidentifiable meat product), and squeezed the contents onto her salad.

Hell, even if she didn't know where she would be ten minutes, ten hours, ten weeks, or ten years from now... she knew that she would have Danny to take care of the little things. Whether they were together or apart, they were in each other's thoughts. She would always be on the ball, sure, but he was the guardrail she held onto. That was all that mattered to her.


	25. Pizza

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

**Author's Note**: We've come to this point, kiddies. Thank you for all of your amazing support and reviews throughout the course of the two years it has taken me to complete this series of food-related one-shots. Every review is meaningful to me and I'm glad that you took the time out of your life to read something that I have written. This isn't the last you'll be hearing from me in this fandom! I still have another collection to finish, you know!

Enjoy, and **please review **if you get a chance!I respond to most of them.

* * *

**025**: Pizza

**Rating**: PG

**Theme**: 025. Pizza (Writer's Choice)

_May 30, 2009_

* * *

Pizza.

It was the only food they could ever agree on without compromising. They usually had a lot to compromise on when it came to _anything_ involving the three of them.

Cheese, just plain cheese, was their favorite.

Tucker, as would be expected of him, craved the Meat Lover's pizza, and usually had a whole pizza to himself when the time came. Danny was satisfied with anything but pineapple or anything relatively similar. ("It's just unnatural to have fruit on a pizza!" he would say with an unusual amount of gusto.) Sam, even though she would tolerate vegetables on her pizza, just liked the taste that plain cheese gave to her. Nothing to get in the way of her taste buds, nothing to distract her.

Pizza.

Some days when they ordered out after a movie or video game marathoning session, the pizza would be less than desirable. Food, being food, to starving teenagers, was good enough for them. Though some days... those golden days... when the pizza tasted like it came from heaven–that was when it all was worthwhile.

"Can't we order something other than pizza for once?" Tucker complained, flopping back on the couch in Sam's basement.

Sam furrowed her eyebrows at him. He was going to through off the balance? The tradition?

"No," she replied, throwing the remote at him. He would complain until he got to watch what he wanted, anyway. Might as well shut him up a little earlier than scheduled. "Why?"

"It's boring," he frowned, flipping through the channels.

"You're boring," she countered. "Pick something that's not dumb and stick with it."

"Yes, Queen," he droned, continuing to click through the channels at an abnormal speed.

As she rolled her eyes at her friend, she couldn't help but wonder where the third member of their trio was. He had texted her saying that he would be a bit late, but that was about an hour ago. Did he run into trouble? She could've helped! He always wanted to do things his own way on his own–

"Sorry I'm late, guys, I had to go pick this up," he came down with two large pizzas balancing on one hand and a two-liter of soda held in the other.

"Ha! You can't argue with food in front of you!" she cheered victoriously at Tucker who just chuckled and got up from the couch in order to help Danny with his load.

"That... is true," he conceded, not finding it childish to stick his tongue out at her.

"Did I miss a fight or something while I was gone?"

"Oh, no, just the usual," Sam responded, grabbing the soda from his hand.

"I'll go grab plates," Tucker said, feeling as comfortable as Sam was in her own house where finding things (including what was in her fridge) and retrieving them.

When he walked out, Danny grinned at her and backed her up against the nearby wall.

"Miss me?" he said softly before capturing her lips with his. They were tame around Tucker, but whenever he managed to leave for two seconds, it always turned out this way. Tucker always managed to wise-crack about 'what would you guys do without me?' but didn't know that they were at the stage in their relationship that they had _plenty_ of things to do to keep each other occupied while he wasn't around. Even so, they weren't the type of couple that would ostracize friends from their group in order to be alone with one another. That was what midnight rendezvous were for.

Hearing the footsteps coming back down the stairs after a couple minutes of making out, Sam broke the kiss and ran a hand through his hair tenderly before pulling away. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I did."

Danny grinned as he licked his lips while reaching for a pizza. "Mmm, delicious."

Sam knew he wasn't talking about the pizza, but she let Tucker think so as he shouted, "Very true!"


End file.
